


crew killer, i've got what you need

by tyomawrites



Series: crew killer [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Jack Rackham fucks shit up, Charles Being Concerned, Charles Has A Crush On Jack, F/M, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Kinda Dark Jack, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulative Jack Rackham, The VaneRackham is not one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 03:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18490378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyomawrites/pseuds/tyomawrites
Summary: He thinks about how that Jack doesn't line up with the one he's seeing now.This Jack is rough around the edges, but moves and acts like a sleek predator. This Jack drawls his words and moves with purpose and venom and strikes precisely without a second thought. This Jack stares down Eleanor Guthrie with thinly veiled threats and doesn't look remotely shocked by it.Charles doesn't understand, sure, Eleanor's a mess, all the captain's can see that now, with the exception of Naft and Lawrence. But Jack,Jack is a hurricane. Jack is unstoppable and Charles, he wants to be in the eye of the storm that is Jack Rackham.





	crew killer, i've got what you need

Charles waltzes his way through the fort and takes it with brute force.

His new crew is entirely what he expected. They don’t relax immediately in the fort, many are stiff and linger in the corridors of the fort. A few sit in the courtyard and keep their backs to the wall. He can’t make a move to reassure them, out of the chance he’d come off as weak.

The marks Albinus leaves on his face begin to scab over for the third time, from when he’s picked at the healing wound. He settles himself into the room he chooses at the fort and scans the stone walls. He needs to find Jack, and Anne, since he disappeared without an explanation.

 

* * *

 

Charles does not recognize the man that used to be his mouthy quartermaster. Charles doesn’t expect to see Jack, standing tall, not running his mouth. The Jack that’s standing in front of him is definitely  _ not  _ Jack. There’s a steely look in his eyes that he doesn’t remember seeing. Bonny is still a presence by Jack’s side, peering out from under her hat with a sharp glare. Her hands still linger on his short swords. The knives on Jack’s belt are new. Charles remembers him having one or two, but not the four, two on each side, hanging down over his hips like a menacing threat.

They’re a sharp contrast when compared to Jack’s Calico clothes and fine silk  scarves that are looped around his neck. He’s heard rumours about Jack’s captaincy before he actually sees Jack, once he’s back in Nassau. The ship that was once known as the  _ Colonial Dawn _ is ported and dubbed  _ Crew Killer _ . 

Jack sounds different, looks different, stands different. There’s something running underneath the surface of his skin, as he leans his hands onto the chair he was sitting on. Charles watches as Jack locks eyes with Eleanor and gives her a very thinly veiled threat. Jack leaves the room and Charles follows him. 

He catches up and snatches a grip onto Jack’s elbow. He doesn’t expect to have a knife held to his throat. A sheepish look flits over Jack’s face, like a passing shadow before Jack pulls away from him.

The man in front of him is  _ not  _ Jack.

“Jack…” He starts, searching for the right words. The last time he saw Jack, he’d barely glanced over his shoulder before taking off and leaving Jack behind. 

“Glad to see you didn’t die wherever you went to.” Charles hesitates, eyes flicking across Jack’s face. "What would you like Charles?" Jack mutters lowly to him. He hesitates and lets go of Jack's elbow. He gets it, he left Jack behind, even though Jack has never betrayed him.

He doesn't recognize Jack. "What happened to you?" Because something must have happened for Jack to look at him like he is now instead of whatever it is that's staring back at him. Jack laughs and it's a mix of hollowness and something from deep inside Jack that only comes out when Jack's been drinking.

"Nothing happened." Jack answers slowly and tilts his head. 

A young boy interrupts him from starting another sentence. Jack is attentive, he glances down at the boy and recognizes him. Letters and coins exchange hands, Jack tucks the letter he's handed into a pocket on the inside of his coat and then he shoos the boy away. 

Charles swallows the small lump that's in his throat and feels his face soften as Jack smiles at the boy while he leaves. 

Jack lifts his head, Charles speaks before he loses Jack's attention. "So you're a captain now." His eyes dropped down to the knives across Jack's belt. "With a reputation." 

Jack scoffs out a chuckle and shakes his head. The noise grips at his heart and surprises him. It makes him step back an inch. "Hmm, yes, I had to find something for myself and Anne you see, to secure our safety seeing as I was dubbed as a crew killer, and Anne is always associated with me and me, her." Jack crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

"I would've dispelled those rumours Jack." Because he would have if he had known before leaving that Jack was going to be isolated and fucked with.

“And pray tell, when would you have done that? While I was getting beaten and pissed on, while you took the fort with a new crew?” Charles reaches out and Jack sighs and steps away. “I understand that Eleanor’s betrayal hurt you Charles, but you still had people loyal to you.” Charles feels his insides twist, and he inclines his head while Jack backs away. “We were still loyal to you.”

“I will make it up to you.” Charles promises, he stares across Jack's face and steels himself, searching for any hints from Jack's face. “I will Jack.”

He turns away, ready to head back to the fort and slink into his room when he hears Jack whisper under his breath, “I should fucking hope so” before Jack stalks away and he doesn’t have a chance to say anything else. 

Charles slinks away, turning over the way Jack looked while he stood, with his hip cocked to the side and his eyes slightly hooded. Jack is so different, there’s hardness in his eyes, in his spine, in his words. He doesn’t understand why Jack’s so different right now.

_ He hates to think of it, but he might like it. _

It’s unsettling really it is, his throat is dry at the thought of Jack wielding more power than anyone else is comfortable with. It warms him, heat curls in the pit of his stomach and settles him in a way, Jack can protect himself with the power wields now, it’s thinly veiled behind the tilt of his head and the knives sheathed on his belt.

Charles strides into the fort, his boots leave tracks in the sand. He sits on the ramparts of the fort and stares out over Nassau with half hooded eyes while the sun sets over the island. He thinks about the Jack he first brought onto the Ranger, the Jack who talked his ear off non-stop. Jack who was a dead-shot but shite with a sword. He thinks about Jack when he drinks, Jack by the firelight. Jack with an orange glow cast over the side of his face while they sit together in the Captain's cabin with a bottle of rum between them.

He thinks about how that Jack doesn't line up with the one he's seeing now.

This Jack is rough around the edges, but moves and acts like a sleek predator. This Jack drawls his words and moves with purpose and venom and strikes precisely without a second thought. This Jack stares down Eleanor Guthrie with thinly veiled threats and doesn't look remotely shocked by it. 

Charles doesn't understand, sure, Eleanor's a mess, all the captain's can see that now, with the exception of Naft and Lawrence. But Jack,  _Jack is a hurricane._ Jack is unstoppable and Charles, he wants to be in the eye of the storm that is Jack Rackham.

 

* * *

 

Weeks slip by. His new crew frequents the brothel actively with praises and information. When Jack and Anne aren't out chasing a prize on Crew Killer they're keeping an eye on their investments in the brothel. Charles can't fault them for it. He doesn't get to leave the fort much and when he does it isn’t for the pleasure of going off with his crew to chase a prize. Someone is required to quite literally hold down the fort while he attempts to handle Eleanor’s constant nagging for him to do his job. Just because he had taken the fort doesn’t mean he wants any of Hornigold’s assigned duties to babysit Eleanor and her businesses.

He escapes Eleanor’s grasp, finally, and for the first time since he’s returned he makes his way to the brothel to see the ‘empire’ that Jack has built. He steps through the doors and is greeted by a comforting type of bustle. Most the girls he can see are occupied, draped over someone or rather’s laps with the backs of their fingers brushing against scruffy cheeks. He catches sight of the Walrus’ quartermaster Mister Gates with a girl who looks young enough to be his granddaughter as she leads him carefully up the stairs.

A presence drops by his side. He turns and catches sight of a familiar hat and hair that drips like blood when it’s wet. Anne is peering out at him from under her hat, her hands aren’t on the handles of her short swords but they’re sitting close on her belt.

“What is it you want?” She says gruffly, tilting her head back minutely to gaze up at him. He lets the corner of his mouth turn up into a small smile before he answers. 

“Wanted to see what Jack’s managed to build.” He gazes around the brothel again and looks at the girls carefully. None of them look like they don’t want to be there. It’s then that he notices the men standing in the corners of the building, their arms crossed over their chests. They don’t look threatening by any means, but he knows instantly what they’re here for. He shoots a raised eyebrow to Anne and she tilts her head back down, hiding a small smile underneath her hat.

“He protects them, so that no one hurts ‘em.” She says gruffly in lieu of an explanation. She steps closer and turns him by his elbow towards the stairs. “He’s upstairs if you want him. Blue door.” She nods. He knows which set of doors he’s talking about, the only set of sky blue doors on the second floor, smack bang in the middle of the row of rooms.

“He was gonna take the fort for you.” She adds. “Before you came back and did it yerself.” 

He nods at her, a silent show of respect as he inclines his head before he walks up towards the door with a hand on the rail of the stairs. He debates on knocking once he’s in front of it, before he forgoes the gesture and pushes into the room. 

Jack is sitting at his desk, eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed, as he concentrates on the piece of paper in front of him. He simply waves dismissively towards the door like it’s not an inconvenience to him. Charles doesn’t speak, he stares, waiting for a second response.

Jack lifts his head with his mouth parted to speak, he spots Charles and his eyes widen, like he wasn’t expecting Charles in his doorway. He gapes for a moment, like a fish out of water and in that moment, Charles sees the scrawny boy that he brought aboard the  _ Ranger  _ all those years ago.

“Anne sent me up.” He says before Jack fails to find words to face him with. Jack’s face twists, before he scowls and puts down his quill, dropping his gaze to his desk.

“Of course she did.” Jack mutters something lowly under his breath before his head snaps up and his gaze is sharply trained, directly on Charles. “She thinks that you need some explaining to done, from me to you.” 

Explaining? Charles doesn’t know what kind of explaining Jack needs to be doing to him, honestly. If he was a better man he’d admit to Jack and explain why he left Nassau, it shouldn’t be the other way around. Charles, lost in his own head, doesn’t notice until Jack is standing an inch away from him with hooded eyes.

“Well, do you want the answers to your questions Charles?” Jack mutters. His words are twisted into a soft growl, inches away from Charles’ face. Charles stills, in all his years Jack has never made the height difference obvious, but now, as he stands face to face with Jack he feels a whole foot shorter than he actually is as Jack straightens his back and watches.

“My questions.” He repeats, nodding along. 

“You asked what happened to me.” Jack leans in, until his breath brushes across Charles cheek. “Nothing happened Charles. I’ve been like this since I slit Anne’s husbands throat, I’ve been this since Anne and I found our way onto your crew, and I’ve been this the entire time as your quartermaster.” Jack says in a sing song voice into his ear. It drifts through his mind. Jack has been letting people underestimate him for years.

_ To be underestimated is a gift _ . A twenty three year old Jack says in his ear, before he ducks down the stairs towards the holdings and leaves a dumbfound Charles Vane standing in the moonlight on deck.

Charles tips his head back in a sign of submission, letting Jack furl his fingers into the edge of Charles’ collar. “Just because people don’t see me for what they want me to be, doesn’t mean I am what I am.” Jack says as he smooths a hand down to the cord of Charles’ necklace and his long fingers pick at it for a moment, before Jack lets go and pulls back, a satisfied smile spreads across his face.

Charles is flushed, deep to his chest and the tips of his ears. He clears his throat once, tries to speak, and then clears his throat for a second time before he hesitates. Blood has rushed from his brain right down to his cock. He fumbles with his grasp on reality for a split second before he meets Jack’s eyes.

“I didn’t mean to leave the both of you.” He blurts out without thinking. “I was dealing with something from my past, and I needed to do it alone.” He steps forward towards Jack and catches Jack’s hand in his. 

“That…” Jack hesitates and glances towards the door. “Chaz that doesn’t change that you left and came back with a  _ new crew _ .” Jack steps back and away from him, he shakes loose from Charles’ grip.

“I know. It isn’t a slight against you Jack.” Charles shakes his head. He steps closer to Jack, chasing another hold onto Jack’s bicep. “It’s not.” He repeats like it’ll get through Jack’s stubbornness. He grips his fingers into the fabric of Jack’s embroidered shirt and tugs him closer, erasing any of the distance that Jack’s tried to put between them.

“Then why? Why not come back and ask us? You didn’t make any move.” 

“Because I came back and you were already a Captain.”  _ Because I didn’t recognize you _ goes unsaid, as Charles loosely grips onto Jack’s bicep. He steps closer until he’s an inch away from Jack, meeting his eyes and searching them. The steely look fades, slowly, and some warmth spreads through Jack’s brown eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to replace you.” Jack visibly flinches at the admission and freezes, staring at Charles. His mouth is parted slightly, dropped open with shock, confusion, a whole mix of other emotions that Charles can’t name flits across his facial expressions before Jack surges forward and barrels into Charles’ in an aggressive hug.

Charles stumbles back, grasping tightly onto Jack’s back as the younger man shoulder’s shake against him. Charles takes in a deep breath, murmuring something under his breath into Jack’s hair. As Jack starts spilling words from his mouth a thought flits through Charles mind, about how right it feels to have Jack back again.

Jack kisses him when he pulls away. It’s rough and passionate and feels like Jack’s trying to devour him. He gets pushed back by Jack’s prodding hands until his back is pressed against those sky blue doors and Jack’s onslaught on his mouth is still going. Charles gasps when Jack nips at his bottom lip and tugs, almost playfully. Once Jack pulls away he sees that the warmth in Jack’s eyes has melted mostly into lust, a bit of it still lingers and swirls, behind it, something darker stares back as Jack rakes his eyes up and down Charles’ frame.

Charles, with heat pumping through his belly and blood rushing straight to his cock, surges forward and returns the onslaught. He nips at Jack’s mouth and tugs on Jack’s unruly hair, twisting his fingers into the curled strands and pulls. Jack lets out a wanting whine as he gets shoved back towards his desk. It’s more like a fight than a fuck, as they scramble against each other. 

“Fuck Jack!” He gasps. Jack slips his own long fingers into Charles’ hair and pulls painfully hard, Charles returns the favour and grinds a thigh between Jack’s legs until Jack is growling a soft curse against Charles’ lips.

They fumble back and forth, pushing against each other and wrestling for dominance until they’re interrupted by a firm knock on the door. They spring apart, Jack looking dazed while panting and Charles is flushed from the tips of his ears to the head of his cock straining against the cloth of his pants. Anne pushes into the room and glances between them. She looks amused, before she ignores Charles presence in the room and turns to Jack.

Charles immediately notices the shift in the both of them once Anne opens her mouth to talk. The steely look in Jack’s eyes returns to full force. He catches Hornigold’s name drop from Anne’s lips. 

His departure from the room and the brothel go unnoticed. 

When he steps out of the brothel, he thinks about the taste of Jack on his lips. 


End file.
